


Another Chance

by sleapyGazelle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action, Cereal, Crushes, Fluff, Getting Together, Group chat, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith has a minor panic attack, Keith has anxiety, Keith in Lance's jacket, M/M, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Texting, The panic attack is in chapter 2, Voltron Secret Valentine 2017, basically a bunch of tropes i'm trash for, but otherwise it's all fluff, damsel-in-distress!lance, gratuitous fluff, knight-in-shining-armor!keith, the cereal tag will make sense later (or if you were around for my cereal keith tag on tumblr)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 03:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9801356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleapyGazelle/pseuds/sleapyGazelle
Summary: Lance is walking home alone late at night when he's accosted by some not so lovely people. The night takes a turn for the better when his old crush arrives to help him out.written for Voltron Secret Valentine 2017





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [back2theblueside](https://archiveofourown.org/users/back2theblueside/gifts).



Stark white numbers and formulas and words floated about against a blackboard background in Lance’s head, colliding like gas molecules. A cloud of chalk dust flew into his line of sight like a disturbance. Lance thought the dust had a weird voice. He almost felt his brow furrow. 

“I said the library’s closing, sir!”

Lance jolted awake, his head flying off the open book where it had landed when he fell asleep. His joints ached and his whole body was stiff. He looked up to see a guard standing over him, glaring somewhat judgmentally.

“Right, sorry. I don’t even know when I dozed off.” He started gathering his books and dropping them in his bag. He shut his laptop and stuffed that in haphazardly; a corner of it was sticking out, but he didn’t have time to neatly pack everything.

 _God_ , what time was it? If the library was closing, it must be… nearly 2am? Damn. He looked at the empty coffee cup set off to the side on the desk. _All the good that did him._ Maybe, just maybe, he had too much on his plate -- more than he was good enough to handle. Grumbling, he slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed the cup. This was no time to dwell on his insecurities. He felt the strain in his eyelids as he made his way to the exit. The moment he stepped out the doors, he was assaulted by a blast of cold, early-February air. Cursing silently, he took a couple of steps in the direction of the campus shuttle bus stop, before he froze and groaned. He checked his phone to confirm, and yes, it was 2:05 am, which meant he’d missed the last bus half an hour ago. _Why does the universe do this to me?_ Indulging in a healthy dose of self-pity, Lance began the half-mile trek to his dorm in the next-to-pitch black. He didn’t need to pay much attention to where he was going; he could find his way half-asleep, which was lucky, given his current situation. His thoughts were preoccupied with far more pleasant things than navigation, like how soft his bed would feel once he got to his room, and how many chapters he’d actually gotten done before managing to doze off despite probably having 75% caffeine in his blood right then. He shuffled, beyond tired, one foot in front of the other, and failed to spot three shadows that stepped out of deeper shadows. By the time he realized what was happening, it was too late -- he was surrounded.

“Hand over your bag, punk.” One of the guys menacingly waved a knife in front of Lance. They were burly and mean-looking, and one of them actually had a goatee.

All the sleep was suddenly gone from his eyes, replaced by adrenaline-fueled fear. He tightened his arm around the messenger bag, drawing it closer to his side. He was not about to part with his laptop this close to finals...At least not without a fight.

One of the thieves sneered in irritation, and took a step closer. Lance took a step back despite himself, but he felt another guy close in behind him. They were boxing him in. He thought back to where he’d put his phone, and remembered stashing it in his bag after leaving the library. No way he could get it out now.

Lance tried to steel his features and mask his fear. He sized up his opponents. They were formidable; but Lance was tall and agile. He could totally take them...on a good day--or at least at a good _hour_. Not at this godforsaken time of night, when he was an inch from death-by-exhaustion. He took a deep breath and braced himself anyway. This was so inconvenient.

Just as Lance watched the guy facing him start to raise an arm to throw a punch, a voice startled the otherwise deserted street.

“How ‘bout you back off and let him go.” It was phrased like a question, but there was nothing uncertain about it.

“Oh, and who’re you? His dad?” the guy to Lance’s right said, and the others snickered.

Standing there, rooted to the spot, surrounded by a threatening trio of knife-wielders, Lance had eyes only for the stranger.

Except he wasn’t a stranger. Lance would recognize his freshman-year crush anywhere. Clad in a red-and-white crop-top jacket -- utterly ridiculous in this freezing weather -- over a black shirt and black jeans, he made his presence felt, just silently standing there, staring down the thugs who were all taller than him. His eyes were black in the lack of light, and Lance racked his brain for the memory of their actual color. His signature bangs and mullet were fluffing in the wind. _Keith._

Lance couldn’t help the little beat his heart skipped at the sight of Keith, or the pleasant pang he felt below his chest at the sound of Keith’s voice. He tried for eye contact, trying to communicate that if they fought together, the two of them could take these guys on. But Keith -- too busy in his defiant staring contest with the goons -- wasn’t looking at Lance. _Classic._

Lance signed. The sound broke everyone out of stillness. The three guys and Keith moved at once. Two of them advanced on Keith, throwing punches that he easily blocked or dodged. The third guy went for Lance’s bag. Lance sidestepped and tripped him. Lance was initially proud of his victory...until Goatee picked himself up, face threatening murder.

 _Uh oh._ But before Lance could react beyond that, Goatee was being jerked back. Lance looked past his assailant’s shoulder to see Keith -- having beaten Goatee’s comrades unconscious -- had grabbed him by the back of his collar. Keith yanked him and shoved him to the ground. With a well-aimed jab and kick, Goatee crumpled into the heap at Keith’s feet.

“Show off,” Lance muttered, because it was easier than acknowledging how hot Keith’s fight skills were.

Keith walked over to Lance, looking him over to make sure he wasn’t hurt. “What are you doing out here?” He was still breathing hard from the fight, so it sounded like an accusation. Lance still chose to hear the concern behind it.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Keith merely huffed in response, crossing his arms and looking down the deserted street. So Lance cleared his throat, and relented. “I was just walking to my dorm.”

Keith nodded. “I’ll walk you there.”

“Oh, I-- You don’t-- That’s--,” Lance stuttered, thoroughly flustered. He thanked the Lord it was too dark for his rising blush to show. He looked up shyly, and realized Keith had already started walking, without waiting for Lance’s affirmation. Lance stared after him, fondly exasperated.

It took a second for Keith to realize Lance wasn’t keeping up. He turned to look back at Lance questioningly. “You coming?”

For the first time that night, Lance sensed hesitation from Keith. It endeared him to Lance even more. “Uh, yeah. Sure,” because what else was he supposed to do? He fell into step beside Keith, and tried not to think too hard. Because if he did, he would think about how pretty Keith’s awful haircut looked when blowing in the wind, or how he’d basically lived through one of his fairy tale fantasy scenarios, starring him as the damsel-in-distress/princess and Keith as the knight-in-shining-armor/dashing prince. The realization almost made Lance stumble, and he flushed even deeper. He needed to break this silence before he got too far ahead of himself and started planning their first date.

“So are you some kind of vigilante street hero or something?” he asked, as casually as possible.

“I was just...taking a walk.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “At two in the morning?”

Keith kept his eyes on the street. “Just needed to clear my head.”

Lance decided not to push it. He smiled wistfully, thinking about how he’d convinced himself he’d gotten over the crush. All it took was one glance at this mullethead, and Lance was even further gone than before. He hadn’t thought that could be possible. “Hey,” he said, with a shy smile. “Thanks.”

Keith looked over at him without saying anything, and it was too dark to properly read his face, so Lance went on. “You know, for helping me out back there.”

Keith smirked. “Helping you out? I saved your life.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Lance glared at Keith. “I could have handled those dudes myself.”

Keith merely scoffed. But he was barely hiding his grin.

“Um, yes,” Lance insisted, “and I was totally going to, before you showed up to one up me. I had it under control, man.”

Keith shook his head, and the two continued their playful bickering until they reached Lance’s dorm building. Welp, what was he supposed to do now? Invite Keith up? As much as he wanted to, he didn’t know if the offer would be welcome, or just plain weird. “Well,” he said awkwardly. “This is me.”

Keith nodded, sliding one foot back, about to turn and walk away once Lance went inside. Needing desperately to prolong the moment, Lance rushed out, “Which way are you headed?”

“Back toward the main campus.”

Lance must have misheard. “Wait, what?”

Keith cocked his head to one side, Lance’s confusion throwing him off. “I live in the dorm across from the library.”

So Keith was going to walk half a mile back now? Lance noticed for the first time that Keith was shivering.

“You are _not_ walking back like that. You’ll freeze your ass off.” Keith started to insist, but Lance wasn’t having it. “Dude, you’ve got a _T-shirt_ on. In the dead of winter.”

“It’s _not_ the dead of winter; and I’ve got a jacket.”

Lance grimaced. “I don’t know what that abomination is, but a jacket it is not.”

“ _It’s literally a jacket!_ ”

Oh god. Keith’s voice got all high when he was exasperated, and it was more cute than Lance could handle right then. But he had to handle it; he was a gentleman after all. He gulped. “You want to come upstairs? You can leave when it gets warmer in the morning.”

Keith’s eyes widened a bit; then his whole face softened. _Violet_ , Lance noted in the light streaming out from the lobby; Keith's eyes were violet. “Thanks, Lance. Truly. But I really need to be by myself right now.”

At first, the only thing Lance got out of that entire response was, _Holy shit, he knows my name?_ Then he registered that Keith had declined. But it wasn’t a dismissal. Lance could see that. Keith was still standing there, looking hesitant, nervous even. Lance didn’t want to guess what inner demons Keith was fighting, but he hoped Keith would explain at some point. He hoped they would see each other often enough for that to eventually be a possibility. And because he was a gentleman -- but mostly because he didn’t believe in fate and needed an excuse to see Keith again -- Lance took off his own jacket. Handing it to Keith, smirked. “At least wear a proper jacket. Look, this one will actually cover your entire torso. And it’s even got a hood!”

The teasing tone was not lost on Keith, who shot back. “Um, the 80’s called. They want their fashion back.”

“Rude.” Though he was secretly pleased that Keith actually took the jacket from him, even if he didn’t put it on yet. “Besides, the 80’s had a great aesthetic. I could totally rock an 80’s look.”

Keith laughed. It was more like small huffs, but his eyes crinkled and his shoulders shook. Lance stared, deciding he wanted to see more of that. He wanted to see _a lot more_ of that. Keith seemed to grow awkward in the silence, and he took a step back. “Thanks,” he gestured to the jacket. And with one last smile and an awkward wave, he turned and started walking back the way they came. Lance watched him go. When he got to the end of the block, Keith slipped his own ridiculous jacket off and put on Lance’s. Even from that distance, Lance could see the sleeves were a bit too long, and it fell a bit loose on Keith’s shoulders. With no one near him to listen, Lance whined audibly. There was an image he wasn’t getting out of his head anytime soon. He had to find more excuses to get Keith to wear his clothes. Because that was an opportunity too sweet to pass up. And if what he had just seen was any indication, Keith’s cuteness knew no bounds. Keith finally rounded the corner, and Lance had no more reason to stand in the doorway. He went in, and climbed up the staircase to his floor. The sleep he’d scared off earlier was starting to pull at his eyelids again, but this time, there was a small happy smile to go along with it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Keith's POV, except for a brief bit of pining!Lance in the middle. The italicized parts are flashbacks, and yes they're in present tense. That's to differentiate them from the past tense of the rest of the story. Hope you enjoy this!
> 
> As I added to the tags, Keith has a mild panic attack in this chapter, but the chapter is still pretty fluffy.

_Keith walks into the lecture hall as quietly as he can, scanning frantically for an empty seat. Of course all the aisle seats are taken. College freshmen being considerate of latecomers? Not a chance. It's the first day of college, and Keith overslept and forgot to check the weather report, so he got caught running to his first lecture in the rain without an umbrella. Standing now at the back of the Intro to Physics lecture, hearing the professor's droll about the syllabus and required texts, he decides on a stretch of four empty seats a few rows ahead. He slings his backpack off his shoulder, and starts to make his way into the row. He steps on a foot and is about to whisper an apology when the kid throws him a dirty look. Keith responds with a glare of his own and finally sits down, pulling out a notebook and pen._

It had been two weeks since Lance handed Keith his jacket. Finals were over, and Keith had emerged largely intact. Spring break was looming, and he was actually looking forward to it for once. He'd been assigned enough homework to keep him busy, and he'd have his dorm room to himself for a whole week while his roommate was away visiting family.

It was still nine in the morning when he made his way back to the dorm from the gym in the still unrelenting cold. His hair hadn't fully dried when he showered after his workout, and he was pretty sure ice was forming on his scalp as he walked. Once in his room, he threw his gym bag down by the bed. He was about to grab some milk and his Marshmallow Mateys cereal, when his eyes slid to his bedpost where a certain olive green jacket hung by its hood. Just the sight of it made the room feel a degree warmer, a touch brighter. With an unconscious smile playing at his lips, he sat down to breakfast, his thoughts on the owner of that jacket, and his earliest memories of him.

_Keith sits in the classroom waiting for the TA. Mandatory recitations for gen ed classes are the bane of his existence, but at least he managed to get into a 12pm section. If he'd have been forced into one of the 9am's, he'd have dropped the course entirely. Keith is a fairly early riser, but going to class before his mind's fully woken up is another matter. Early morning lectures a couple of times a week are bad enough, without adding recitations too. The room has ten students including Keith, waiting for class to begin. On the dot exactly, the TA walks in and starts attendance. Keith waits until his name is called, then after answering, loses interest in favor of scanning the course syllabus to see how much of today is just more course orientation. The TA calls a name, when someone bursts through the door shouting, "Here!" Apparently, even afternoons are too early for some people. Keith rolls his eyes without looking up from his papers. The latecomer hurries in and drops into the seat next to Keith, but not before nearly stepping on his foot. Keith looks up in annoyance, and the vaguely familiar kid smirks. "Deja vu, huh?"_

_Keith can't quite place where he's seen him before. "Um, who're you?"_

_The dude's face sours, and that's when Keith recognizes him. The guy whose foot he himself stepped on in the physics lecture just last week. "Oh wait, I remember you," he begins._

" _Nope, too late for that," his miffed classmate replies._

_Keith just shakes his head and turns his attention back to the TA—whose insistence on the importance of attendance is veering on the edge of openly threatening. Keith didn't mean to offend the guy, but he isn't the best with people. It's a shame too; the moody stranger is pretty cute._

In the present, Keith tried to remember when he'd actually learned his easily offended classmate's name, but he couldn't; he'd just been _Moody_ until he was Lance. And they mostly hadn't talked despite sitting next to each other for an entire semester. Apparently since then, he had gotten over his aversion to Keith. He decided Lance probably didn't even remember ever having disliked him in the first place. Well, Keith wasn't one to complain; another chance at getting to know him wasn't a bad deal at all. His eyes seeked out the jacket again as he got up to go wash the now empty cereal bowl.

* * *

"Dude, just call him." Hunk made it sound so easy.

"I can't believe Lance is pining after this guy _again_ ," Pidge lamented. "It was all he'd talk about back then."

Lance and his two best friends were on a video call from their respective homes in different time zones. Spring break was no excuse for not providing up to the minute updates on the crush situation.

Ignoring Pidge, Lance tried his best to explain his dilemma. "I can't just call him; I don't have his number."

"You know where he lives. Go visit his dorm when school resumes," Pidge suggested despite herself.

Lance shook his head vehemently. That didn't sound like a terrible idea actually, and he had the backup excuse of wanting his jacket back. But it was Risky. His nervousness must have shown on his face because Hunk chuckled fondly.

"Lance. You flirt with every pretty person you meet, without a second thought. Why are you making this so hard for yourself?"

" _Because I'm never actually serious all those times_ ," Lance exclaimed in frustration, eliciting a groan from Pidge.

"You're hopeless. And I'm out."

The other two started to protest, asking her to stay on the call a bit longer.

"Can't. It's getting pretty late here, and my mom's telling me to turn off the tech." Pidge rolled her eyes dramatically. "Sorry, guys. Catch you later!" She signed off, and after a little more encouragement to make a move, Hunk took his leave too.

Alone now in his room, with sounds of his siblings and parents still coming from downstairs, Lance lay back on his bed and tried to shake the feeling that he'd somehow screw this up again. Last time, he hadn't started liking the guy until after he'd decided to be rude to him, and then never spoken to Keith again out of embarrassment. But this time he had no casual way of getting in touch. He'd already tried stalking him in Facebook and instagram, but it was like the guy had no digital footprint. Sighing deeply, he dragged himself out of bed to freshen up for dinner.

* * *

Shiro wasn't picking up. _He's probably just busy_ , the rational side of him whispered _._ He always picked up on weekends. _It's not like we talk_ every _weekend_. Keith's thoughts chased each other in his mind, with his heart rate picking up and his limbs getting restless. He'd tried calling his brother, but Shiro wasn't responding. Keith couldn't stop assuming the worst. He got up, paced his room a little, then—mind still playing out terrible scenarios Shiro might be facing—grabbed Lance's jacket and headed out the door. He took the stairs down, pulling the jacket on as he went. He tugged it tight around himself. The smell of vanilla, fainter now than when Lance had first handed it to him, intruded on his thoughts. It was a welcome intrusion. It didn't drive the anxiety away, but it was something. Out on the street now, he coaxed his mind towards memories of deep blue eyes and warm brown skin and a mischievous smirk blooming into a disarming smile. Of their own accord, as if disconnected from his conscious mind, Keith's legs took him toward the spot he'd last seen Lance, the spot where he might find him now.

Anxiety and calm fought for control of his mind while he walked, and it wasn't until he'd arrived at Lance's dorm building that his rational side caught up with him. _What even was the time? He didn't even know where in this building Lance was, or if he even was here. And Lance probably wouldn't be in the mood to deal with a practical stranger's panic attack._ Well at least he was feeling a bit calmer now. But he knew from experience he needed some more time in the fresh air to fully clear his mind. The anxiety didn't get too bad all that often but when it did, it took time and patience to feel better again.

He was about to turn back when a campus bus pulled up at the end of the block and Lance stepped out. The moment he did, his eyes met Keith's and widened in surprise, followed by a tentative smile. He was making his way toward the building entrance, where Keith was still standing awkwardly. Well this would be hard to explain.

"Hey!" Lance's voice was cheery, if a bit high-pitched; and if Keith was being self-indulgent, Lance sounded pleased to see him here. _Huh. I can work with this_ , he decided, finally returning Lance's smile.

"Just passing by?" Lance teased, practically wiggling his eyebrows.

Keith let out a nervous chuckle. "I, uh, needed some air." He paused, realizing Lance deserved more details.

Lance raised an eyebrow questioningly. _Here?_

"I get anxious sometimes," he admitted. Something was urging him to be honest. "Walking around helps me calm down. I just… started walking and ended up here," he finished with a shrug.

Lance just nodded in understanding, and Keith was relieved to find no pity or reluctance in his open expression. "That explains the vigilante knight thing that day." The statement was followed by an embarrassed chuckle, and Keith felt a blush rising on his own face."How are you feeling now," Lance followed-up.

"Better!"

That felt like the end of a conversation to Keith, but as much as he wanted to, he wasn't sure how to keep it alive. He wished for Lance to say something, and the talkative boy didn't disappoint. "Are you… going to walk more?"

_It was something._ He'd take it. "Yeah. Gonna take the long way back to my dorm."

"Do, um…" Lance trailed off, looking at a particularly interesting spot on the ground. The flustered look was good on Lance, Keith decided, while the former found his voice again. "Do you want some company?"

_It was more than just something after all._ Keith nodded. He tried not to let his smile get too eager, but couldn't be sure if he succeeded.

"Just wait here." Lance dashed up to his room to drop off his bag, then the two made their way back toward the main square.

"How'd you get a dorm so close to campus?" Lance didn't bother hiding his envy. Inexplicably, Keith found it adorable. "I still can't believe I ended up in an entirely different _neighborhood_."

"Oh c'mon," Keith laughed. "It's not that far. And there's a bus."

"Yeah yeah. But seriously," Lance bumped his shoulder into Keith's, and Keith finally learned what people meant when they said their heart skipped a beat. "How'd you get in?"

"Just got lucky this year. Before, I lived in University Hall. And Third North before that."

Lance made a face like he'd just stepped in slush. "Oh yikes. I've never been that far out." Keith nodded solemnly. "Still wish I was closer though," Lance insisted.

"Fair enough."

They talked amiably all the way back, until they neared the entrance to Goddard Hall.

"Hey, sorry for making you come all the way back." Keith wasn't really that sorry, but it was the polite thing to say, right?

"Don't worry," Lance waved him off. "I'll just take another bus back."

"This was nice," Keith risked. And the risk was worth it for the smile it earned him.

"Yeah," Lance nodded. "Yeah, it really was." Apparently encouraged, he took a step closer to Keith. "If you ever want to, you know, do this again, you can text me?" His voice turned up at the end like it was a question.

Exchanging numbers! Of course. A normal thing that people did but that never occurred to Keith's asocial ass. He dug his phone out of his back pocket and handed it to Lance to enter his number. Lance gladly took it before offering his own phone to Keith. Numbers exchanged and smiles hidden, they were about to part ways when Keith remembered,

"Oh Lance, your jacket!" He started to shrug out of it, when Lance's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"It's okay, I'll take it back later." Lance bit his lip, hand sliding down to rest on Keith's arm. "It suits you." And without waiting for a response he turned and walked off to the bus stop, with nothing more than a final wave over his shoulder.

Keith stuffed his hands into the jacket's pockets and went inside, finally giving in to the pleased grin and the color dusting his cheeks, which had nothing to do with the waning cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if you can guess what college I went to from the dorm names ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m doubly excited to be posting this, because I had really lost the feel for this story. Special thanks to [rainingWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainingWolf/pseuds/rainingWolf) for helping me get my groove back!
> 
> There is some texting and some group chat in this chapter. It's fairly obvious when reading, but just to clarify, this is the formatting for texts:  
>  _Lance_  
>  **Keith**  
>  Shiro
> 
> And the group chat nicknames are:  
> Lance: _Lancelot_  
>  Pidge: **Lifehack**  
>  Hunk: _**Gourmunk**_

The alarm on Lance's phone blasted the marimba tune like the world was ending. Resisting the urge to throw it against the wall, Lance snoozed it and stretched his limbs until his hands pressed against his headboard and his toes spilled off the bed.

Last night he had taken the time to tell his roommates in excruciating detail about how Keith and he had exchanged numbers.

" _So I'm watching someone sleep on the bus and imagining joking about it with Keith, and I get off the bus and there he is!" Lance sits cross-legged on the couch, elbows on his knees, head resting in his hands._

_Hunk sits at the desk and Pidge on the floor, laptops out, doing their respective homework. Neither responds to Lance. They've essentially run out of ways to express pleasant surprise after the first few times of Lance recounting the events of his evening. So then they resign themselves to supportive nods and smiles. And when it becomes apparent that Lance would talk with or without the attention of his audience, they settle into a companionable silence as Lance gushes on._

" _I mean, do you remember me freaking out about how to be cool about seeing him again? And then_ he _comes to see_ me _? I still can't believe that happened."_

" _And I can't believe you're still talking about this." Pidge finally reaches the end of her patience. "I'm getting cavities just listening to you."_

" _But Pidge, you gotta admit," offers Hunk, "it's nice hearing him go on about someone else rather than himself." He winks at Lance, softening the blow of his words._

" _Um, rude." Lance sprawls himself out on the couch, draping a leg over the back and letting the other hit the floor. "Anyway, I'm glad I didn't listen to you guys. If I had made a move like you said, I would have missed out on the glory of Keith seeking me out." With a jolt, he sits back up. "Oh my god, I have his number now! Do I text him? Or wait until tomorrow?"_

" _Oh my_ god _, why am I friends with you?" Pidge throws her highlighter at him, and he dodges with a pout._

" _Wait until morning, definitely," says Hunk, looking pointedly at Lance's abandoned calculus textbook on the couch arm. At Lance's persistent pout, he adds with a smile, "Until then, take comfort in that he's probably thinking about you right now too."_

And then Lance had to stay up to finish calculus homework. His achingly tired body urged him to regret it, but his heart still felt light. Wasn't there a saying about how if you waste time but enjoy it, it wasn't really wasted? If Tumblr was to be believed, it was John Lennon who had said it, and that dude knew his shit, so. Lance was in the clear. He picked himself up out of bed to get ready for class.

* * *

"Twenty-two missed calls all day yesterday? Keith, are you okay?" The worry in Shiro's voice felt like a warm, steady hand on Keith's shoulder.

His brother had finally called him back on Monday morning, and Keith picked up, still half asleep. He didn't have to open his eyes and check the screen to know who was calling. "Are _you_? Where were you yesterday? I thought Sundays were your day off." Shiro had been a soldier and an astronaut, and now taught at the military academy.

There was shuffling and soft footsteps on the line as Shiro didn't answer for a moment. Keith finally opened his eyes in surprise. "Did you just wake up?" He pulled the phone away from his ear to check the time. Nine-thirty. Shiro was never in bed past seven. "Seriously, are you okay? What's going on?"

Keith heard fond chuckling and running water in response. "I'm fine. I promise." The tap turned off, and Shiro gulped down some water, then added, "More than fine, really."

Keith huffed, recalling the panic from the night before and the walk that had soothed it. "What were you doing, anyway?"

The sound of glass touching wood, a hitched breath as Shiro hefted himself up to sit on the counter, a throat clearing in anticipation of admitting something big. "I was on a date."

"What?" Keith sat up now, stifling the yawn that threatened to soften his voice. "Shiro." He kept his tone low and stern, but it was still protective, cautiously optimistic. "Spill. All the deets. Now."

Shiro responded with an unhindered laugh, a truly happy sound. "Relax, Keith. It was just a date. With an administrator from the academy."

Keith hummed ambivalently. "You could've let me know."

"Last night was… kind of a last minute thing?" Shiro still sounded unsure.

" _She_ asked _you_ , didn't she?"

"Nothing wrong with that," Shiro defended.

Keith smiled despite himself. It was hard to be mad at his brother for being unavailable when it was because he was finally opening up to someone. "Not saying there is. Just saying you're hopeless. This is the same girl you've had a crush on since you started working there isn't she?"

Keith waited for the rustling to subside as Shiro moved his phone to his other ear. "How did you-"

"You're way more obvious than you think," he snickered. He could imagine the indignation passing over his brother's face. To make up for not being there to see it, Keith decided to push some more. "Is that why you woke up so late?" He made his voice as suggestive as possible. "Had a good time last night?" Keith relished in the crash of the phone slipping from a stunned Shiro's hand.

"You know you should try it sometime," Shiro offered after a moment of flustered silence.

Keith hummed questioningly, and Shiro clarified. "You know, dating. A date. You should try it too. Then you'd be less invested in _my_ prospects."

The sudden image of a lopsided, smug smile and the feeling of a shoulder bumping his kept him from sassing back right away, and Shiro was all over it. " _Oh?_ Have you finally met someone? Keith? Who is he?"

"Shut up, Shiro." _Wow, great comeback, Keith._

"Oh woah, so it's serious." Mirth peeked out from his voice, though he was careful not to let it bubble through. Not before he got a few jabs in. "Did you already speed him around on your bike to make sure he's weak in the knees for you?" Keith _groaned_ , but Shiro was _not_ done. "Don't let him realize your entire wardrobe is from Hot Topic, or you'll scare him off."

"Oh my _god_ , I'm hanging up. I can't believe I spent a whole day worrying about my _garbage brother_." He had to shout the last part to be heard over the giggles now filling his ears. Metal slapped softly against wood as his brother braced his prosthetic hand on the counter to throw back his head and laugh. " _Ugh_ , you are the worst!" And he was seriously about to hang up, when Shiro forced himself to calm down enough to say,

"Keith hang on." He added in a softer tone, "I'm sorry I missed your calls. I must have worried you."

Keith just rolled his eyes. "It's okay. Send me a selfie of you being cute with your new girlfriend, and I might forgive you."

"How 'bout I do you one better?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it. Just keep me posted on this boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," he insisted, but not before the word tingled all over his skin.

After hanging up, Keith didn't get out of bed right away. He'd missed his usual workout hour anyway. He lay back down instead, wondering when was the last time he'd slept this soundly, not awoken by anxiety or bad dreams, or both. As hard as he'd pouted when Shiro teased him, his brother was right. A relationship could be good for him. _Lance_ could be good for him. As if on cue, his phone buzzed. "Text message from McSlain ❤: _Morning, sleepyhead_ "

Who? What? Keith stared at the screen for a moment in bemusement, until he realized who it was.

➤ **McSlain? Seriously?**

➤ _;)_

Keith was just taking a moment to get his bearings—because he'd just gone from pining over his crush in bed, to texting his crush in bed—when Lance hit him with a double text.

➤ _Guess what I saved your name as in my phone_

➤ **uhh.. I just put in my name last night? probably don't want to know what you changed it to :|**

➤ _dw it's not embarrassing ;P_

This was followed by a screenshot of the text window. The contact name was just a K followed by the angry red face emoji.

➤ **what's that red face for?**

➤ _it's cuz ur always grumpy and pouting_

Keith barely had a chance to huff in response before Lance texted him again.

➤ _it's cute tho_

Keith rolled over so he could hide his face in his pillow and groan inwardly.

➤ **I'm changing ur contact name**

He pulled up the text details, ignoring the " _Noooo_ " that had just come through from Lance. After a moment's hesitation, he left the "McSlain ❤," but added a smirk, a winky face, and the poop emoji. Coming back to the conversation, he took a screenshot and sent it.

➤ _I'm crying ;D you're so mean_

➤ **ur the one making me look like I have anger management issues**

➤ _lmao would you prefer the knife emoji instead?_

➤ _well the smirk and the wink are pretty much me I guess ;)_

➤ **dw it's cute**

Keith stared at the heart before tossing his phone on the bed. This was too much. It was too early for this. He sat up and leaned against the headboard, pulling his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. Then he caved and picked up the phone again. Lance was still talking.

➤ _so you're up early. you have class rn too?_

➤ **it's not that early... i usually get up to go to the gym, but i kinda slept in today. i woke up when my brother called me**

➤ **and no, i don't have class until later**

➤ _ofc ur a morning person smh_

➤ _i didn't know you have a brother?! there are more of you?_

➤ **lol what does that even mean? yeah my brother's name is shiro**

➤ **it's short for takashi shirogane**

➤ _oh he has a different last name than you?_

➤ **yeah i was adopted**

➤ _ohh that's cool! I have 7 brothers and sisters, and way too much extended family to count haha_

➤ _but i'd lay down my life for any of them_

➤ **sounds intense**

➤ _:)_

➤ _hbu? any other siblings?_

➤ **nah, just shiro**

➤ _hmm. I feel like you'd have the kind of relationship with your brother where you'd do anything for each other, but would also sell the other to satan for 1 corn chip_

➤ **... wtf shiro sent me that meme just last week and said it described us perfectly**

➤ **i don't need** _ **another**_ **memelord in my life what is this**

➤ _hahahaha_

➤ _ok class is about to start. talk later B)_

Keith realized he'd been smiling the whole time, with his cheek pressed against his knee. He thumbed up in the conversation to read it over and overanalyze the heart Lance had sent him.

* * *

A long day of classes behind him, Lance made his way to the library to finally start on his homework for the week. On his way he pulled up messenger on his phone.

Lancelot:  
_Finally out of class guys_  
_Kill me now_ __  


Not expecting an immediate response from the group chat, he pocketed the phone, only to have it vibrate seconds later.

Lifehack:  
**Careful what you wish for...**

Lancelot:  
_Omfg Pidge why are we even friends D':_

Lifehack:  
**Because you love me**

Lancelot:  
:|

Lifehack:  
**And apparently I like you despite my better judgment**

Lancelot:  
_You know what, I'll take it :D_

Gourmunk:  
_**Aww you guys**_

Lancelot:  
❤

Lifehack:  
**Ok let's stop now**

Gourmunk:  
_**Speaking of liking and loving**_

Lifehack:  
**Oh no  
****Hunk do not do the thing**

Gourmunk:  
_**How's it going with Keith?**_

Lifehack:  
**He did the thing**

Lancelot:  
_Fine?_

A couple of minutes went by in which the chat was dead, presumably waiting for Lance to elaborate. He didn't.

Lifehack:  
**Wait what?**  
**That's it?  
****No gushing about how how cute your name sounds in his voice or some other sappy shit?**

Lancelot:  
_What? I don't do that!_

Gourmunk:  
_**Yeah, and you don't make heart eyes at your phone texting him either  
****idk what Pidge is even talking about here**_

Lifehack:  
**Pfft**

Lancelot:  
_Guuuys  
_ ▻ _._ ◅

Gourmunk:  
_**But yeah, have you asked him out yet?**_

Lancelot:  
_Umm,_

Gourmunk:  
_**Lance?**_

Lancelot:  
_Idk guys what if I'm wrong_

Gourmunk:  
_**???**_

Lifehack:  
**What do you mean?**

Lance stared at Pidge's last text, wondering if he should unload his insecurities onto their supportive but tired ears. By the time he arrived at the library, he decided they deserved his honesty after listening to his pining (mostly) without complaint.

Lancelot:  
_How does one go about seriously asking someone out?_

Lifehack:  
**Ha  
****Lance needs advice on asking someone out**

Lancelot:  
_I'm honestly asking?! It's easy to do it when I'm not actually serious because I already know I'm gonna get rejected_

Lifehack:  
**Oh**

Lancelot:  
_Yeah and like, I don't wanna mess this up?_

Gourmunk:  
_**It'll be fine**_

Lifehack:  
**Well you ARE annoying. I hated you when we first met.**

Gourmunk:  
_**Just go for it  
**__**(Not helping Pidge.)**_

Lancelot:

…...

Lifehack:  
**No, think about it. I hated you, and now you're one of my best friends. I would punch the sun if it hurt you  
****So yeah dw about first impressions or anything like that. He must like you if he still talks to you after how mean you were to him freshman year**

Lancelot:  
_Thanks Pidge, I appreciate it. But liking someone as a friend and LIKE liking someone are totally different things! What if he isn't into me like how I'm into him_

Gourmunk:  
_**Didn't you say you guys were flirting?**_

Lancelot:  
_I mean I was? But technically he never said anything that couldn't have just been "friendly banter"_

Lifehack:  
**Omfg Lance just ask him if he was flirting**

Lancelot:  
_What kind of garbage advice is that_

Lifehack:  
**Why do I even try with you  
****Watch him ask you out. You'll owe me 20$**

Lancelot:  
_Pfft_

Gourmunk:  
_**In all seriousness, take your time  
**__**But Pidge is right. You should ask him. It could get awkward sure, but it's better than the uncertainty**_

Lancelot:  
_Ugh_  
_I hate you guys and your sound advice_  
❤

Lifehack:  
**(He's not gonna do it is he?)**

Gourmunk:  
_**(Nope.)**_

Lifehack:  
:|

Lancelot:  
_:)_

Gourmunk:  
_**:(**_

Lance left it at that, but in the coming days, he found himself still texting Keith, _a lot_ , and it was not good for his sanity. He wanted to grab Keith's Snapchat, but wasn't about to be obvious and ask for it. He'd been the one to ask for Keith's number, after which Keith hadn't offered to exchange any other info. So he tried dropping hints by taking screenshots of his snaps and texting them. He sent meme-captioned selfies with him sprawled over his books, with his face mask on, and sometimes with just the dog filter. Keith always responded with a noncommittal "lol." In all of this, Lance was getting really good at asking himself why _Keith_ would like someone like _him_ , but not so good at answering that question.

* * *

Keith received each selfie with a flutter in his chest, but played it cool by texting "lol" instead of keyboard smashes Were keyboard smashes even a thing in texting? Keith wasn't sure. But the point was, how did this boy look so good even about to pass out from tiredness? Keith looked like Death when he was tired or overworked, and Lance somehow made puffy eyes and disheveled hair look cute. This was unfair. Keith had to get back at Lance in some way.

After the latest picture of Lance practically _inhaling_ a sip of Starbucks iced coffee like it was oxygen, Keith decided to strike back. It was 10:30, so nighttime but not too late, and he actually had an appropriate response for a coffee cup selfie. He opened up his front camera and framed the shot. Raised eyebrows, hand holding a mug of steaming tea covering half his face. He sent it with the text, ' **You're actually drinking ICED coffee in this weather?'**

Lance's reply was almost immediate. Keith was unsure if that was supposed to make him feel this good, but he decided to just go with it.

➤ _yolo ;)_

➤ **yes exactly. only once. so why would you do this to yourself?**

➤ _gotta get that caffeine somehow_

Keith rolled his eyes and responded with another picture—almost the same shot as before, but this time with the tea mug even closer to the camera, blocking almost his entire face. The little tag of the teabag was front and center, leaving no doubt as to what point Keith was trying to make.

➤ _lol u make it look enticing but I'm sorry to say_

➤ _tea tastes terrible. even worse than coffee_

➤ _it's just like, weirdly flavored water_

➤ **what? you're crazy**

➤ **and you don't like coffee? then why're you drinking it?**

➤ _again, gotta get that caffeine somehow_

➤ _even if it means it's buried under layers of milk and sugar_

➤ _and like vanilla syrup? not sure but it's super sweet_

This was accompanied by a selfie—Lance sipping from the straw thoughtfully, eyes looking off in the distance, as if trying to place what flavors were in his own drink. Stubbornly stifling his smile behind his fist, even though there was no one around, Keith tapped and saved the picture to his phone before responding,

➤ **ok but why iced**

➤ _the hot takes too long to drink dude_

➤ _need that caffeine asap_

➤ **omfg**

Lance responded with a picture of the now empty cup, followed by thumbs up emojis. Keith huffed out a laugh into his knuckles. This boy was hopeless. Keith decided to intervene.

➤ **listen idk what kind of tea you've been drinking but you don't know what you're missing**

➤ _sounds fake but ok_

➤ **i will prove it to you!**

Lance sent the skeptical-looking thinking emoji. It was a silent challenge. Or at least that's how Keith decided to take it. In hindsight he should've thought this through; but when had he ever been known to do that? There was nothing to do but respond in kind. He entered the angry face, decided it looked too angry, and replaced it with the one huffing air from its nose and sent it.

➤ **i'm serious. if you're free friday afternoon i can make some for you and show you how to make it**

Up until that point Lance had been responding instantly and keeping the conversation going. But this message was followed by a solid ten minutes of radio silence. And really, that should have been a strong hint, even for Keith's socially inept ass, that he _did_ _something_ to cause the silence. But he just assumed Lance got distracted by actual work, which he figured was for the best. As freaked out as that boy was about studying, it would do him some good to get work done. So Keith settled into his own physics homework until his phone buzzed again.

➤ _i guess I'm free. I mean I don't have classes or anything_

➤ _what time are you thinking?_

Still thinking of quantum models, Keith needed to scroll up and check what Lance was talking about. Oh right, Keith had offered to show him what properly made tea could taste like. But that was 10 minutes ago. So was Lance checking his schedule this whole time? Anyway,

➤ **anytime. i'm completely free Fridays**

The three dots indicating that Lance was typing popped up. And stayed up. For a while.

➤ _ok how about 1pm?_

Wondering vaguely why it took Lance so long to type that, Keith replied with an ' **ok'** and was about to tell Lance to come to his dorm and just text him when he was downstairs, when Lance started typing something again. It came through a bit quicker this time.

➤ _will you have eaten by then? if you want we could grab lunch and then have the tea_

➤ _which I will def hate btw. just lettin u know_

➤ **pfft just u wait. it will be the most amazing tea you've ever had**

➤ _it may very well be my man, but that doesnt mean it'll be good. it'll still be tea_

➤ _like, a good dictator is still a dictator_

Keith finally sent that angry face emoji. He received three laughing ones in response.

➤ **and sure lunch is fine. you know that diner off campus?**

They made plans to meet in front of the diner, which Lance had _not_ known about, as a matter of fact. Apparently he'd been living off his overpriced dining hall meal plans the whole time he was at college.

It was only after Keith had finished his homework and settled in to sleep around 1am that his eyes flew open with realization. _Did he ask Lance out?_ _On a date?_ He sat up. Now that he thought about it, replaying the text conversation in his head… he did, didn't he? He chewed on his lip.

Wait. Had Lance _accepted_? Yes, and he'd extended the offer to lunch. _Oh_. He fell back into the bed with an audible groan. _Oh no._ He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and sent off a furious text to Shiro.

➤ **omg I think I accidentally asked Lance out**

He tossed the phone back in the general direction of the nightstand—having needed to get that out there but unwilling to deal with having woken up his brother. He buried himself into his blanket, knowing full well he was not about to get any sleep that night.

* * *

The next morning, Keith awoke groggily—having gotten a few winks in after all—to texts from Shiro.

➤who is Lance?

➤how do you "accidentally" ask someone out?

➤nvm i shouldnt doubt ur abilities

Followed a few minutes later by,

➤where/when is this date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who noticed the chapter count go up again? I yearn for the days when I will be experienced enough as a writer to know exactly how long my stories will be based on the idea and outline, or for when I will have a consistent writing style?? Coz I once wrote a story spanning 15 years into just over 10k words?!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's commented and left kudos!!

Lance got off the train and walked to the diner, head bowed into his phone reading the directions.  _ Destination is on your left _ , his screen announced in bold lettering. 

“Left?” he muttered to himself, glancing up and realizing he was on the wrong side of the street. The diner’s nondescript front was easy to miss. He would never have spared it a second glance if he wasn't looking for it. He crossed and peered inside through the windows to see if Keith had arrived. His eyes were scanning the booths when a low voice tickled against his ear,

“Looking for someone?”

Lance jumped forward with an undignified yelp and wheeled around to find  _ Keith _ standing there with a hand on his hip, actually  _ smirking  _ at Lance’s reaction. He tried to fix Keith with a ‘that wasn't very nice’ glare, but it was hard to manage when warmth was still tingling down from his ear to pool in his belly. 

Clearing his throat when his voice came out too high, Lance finally answered. “Yeah actually. Someone promised me lunch and a coffee. You know anything about that?” That came out a little fast, but still pretty smooth. Of course it did. Flirting was Lance’s thing, after all. Even if Keith’s eyes boring into him right now  _ was _ incredibly distracting. 

“No,” Keith said casually, “you were promised lunch and a  _ tea _ .” He stepped past Lance to open the door for them, and gestured inside. 

Lance walked through, to find a second door. He held it open for Keith and followed him inside. It was simple, but cozy, with booths along the right, and the counter to the left. Keith was telling him about how nice the food and service were, when Lance decided to ask,

“How did you find out about this place?”

Keith answered with a genuine smile as they settled into the booth by the window, “I wandered off campus one day and I happened to be passing it when I realized I was hungry.”

Lance raised his eyebrows. “Serendipity?”

Keith chuckled. “I guess it was pretty lucky. I come here pretty often now. I once—” He was interrupted when a waitress put a couple of huge menus in front of them, before dashing off to another table. 

Lance opened the menu, and hummed for Keith to continue. 

“Yeah, I used to go to this other place a bit closer to campus, but once I went there for dinner and I was the last person left. I was taking my own sweet time, eating dessert and finishing my drink.”

“Drinking at a diner? Aw man, we need to go to a bar next time.”

“It was juice, with my dinner. Will you listen?”

“Right sorry.” Lance planted his elbows on the table, his crinkling eyes the only evidence of the smile behind his clasped hands. 

“And when I finally left around 10, I realized their closing time had been half an hour before.”

“You held everyone back after closing time?” Lance giggled at Keith’s past predicament. “How do they not hate you?”

“No one said anything! I didn't even realize.” Keith shook his head, cringing at the memory. “So yeah, I could never go back there again. I had to find somewhere else.”

“Keith, you have to go back! Just find the server, apologize, get something and tip them extra,” Lance reasoned with an easy smile. “Who knows; you might make a friend.” 

Keith looked befuddled and mildly horrified by the concept. 

“We’ll work on it,” Lance promised casually before turning back to the menu, not noticing his date fluster in response. “So what's good here.”

“Literally everything.”

After some indecision, Keith got his usual order of breakfast for lunch (a waffle sundae). Lance tried the chicken wrap, but he didn’t register whether or not he liked it. His senses were preoccupied with Keith: the way his eyes lit up innocently when he looked at the strawberry ice cream and whipped cream piled atop his waffle; the way he lost some self-consciousness as he ate; the way he looked impatient to take the next bite, even as he was still chewing the first. 

When Keith started to look up, Lance hurriedly tore his eyes away. He buried his smile into his wrap, probably taking a messier bite than necessary, but at least he hadn't been caught staring with a vacant smile. After he wiped his mouth with a napkin, he decided to try and make Keith feel better about his social disaster. Because despite making light of the incident, he clearly still felt awkward about it. So Lance would outcompete him in the social debacle department, but not before dragging him some more first. 

“So after your other diner horror story, what made you want to brace the waters at this place?” 

Keith didn't miss the fondly teasing tone, but he still answered honestly with a smirk, “It's open 24 hours.” 

Lance had not been expecting that, and he nearly choked on a mushroom from his sudden laughter. “Okay, listen. That story was pretty embarrassing, but I’m about to blow your mind. Now, I don't have many flaws, but  _ prooobably, maaaybee _ ,” he suggested slyly in a voice that up until that moment would've had Keith rolling his eyes; but right then, it made the corners of his mouth tighten in fond amusement, as Lance continued,

“... _ sometimes _ I  _ might _ talk too much.” He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes as if it was hard to believe. The dramatics had their desired effect as Keith put down his fork to laugh. His eyes clamped shut and his nose scrunched up so cutely that it made Lance realize, he would make any manner of fool of himself for more chances to watch that laughter. For now, he went on with his story,

“So I was getting lunch from the campus Starbucks, and as soon as I handed the sandwich to the cashier, I told him to please heat it up for me. But it must've come out too loud, because I heard him saying a jerk chicken to the barista, who turned to look at me and laughed.”

Keith's eyes widened in mortification, drawing a chuckle from Lance. 

“I mean it was fine. I couldn't just ask him if he'd called me a jerk chicken. I just tried to be extra nice while paying.”

Once the second-hand embarrassment started to wear off, Keith was actually amused. “Is the point of this story that he's one of your best friends now?”

“Oh no,” Lance waved his hand dismissively. “The point was that you're not the only one with cringe-y service industry experiences,” he winked. 

Lance ate as he went on to talk about how that cashier likely didn't even remember him, since he happened to work when Lance didn't usually frequent the shop. Keith's eyes shyly took in how expressive Lance’s face and hands were. The conversation turned to their majors and post-graduation plans, when Keith's phone vibrated with a text. 

He threw a glance at it where it sat next to his plate, and glimpsed Shiro’s name before the screen darkened again, piquing his interest. Lance was drinking water, and Keith took that moment to check his text. 

>> Why aren't you eating your food?

Confusion furrowed his brows as he typed back,

**> >What?**

The response was immediate. 

>>Look behind you

**> >Wtf**

Keith turned around despite none of this making any sense, and his eyes widened in horror. Lance was saying something, but it bounced right off Keith’s ear; his neurons were preoccupied processing the sight before him. Shiro was seated in the booth behind him in a hoodie and aviators, looking down at his phone. A beautiful woman with glowing dark skin was giving Keith a mischievous look from her spot cuddled comfortably against Shiro. She had long, fluffy, cotton white hair tied up in two buns, and she was rocking a varsity jacket. A pair of pink heart sunglasses was perched coolly against her head. 

Keith’s brain was still struggling, when his phone vibrated in his hand again.

>>You said you wanted to see a picture of my gf and I wanted to see ur bf :)

>>Remember how I said I'd do you one better than a picture 

Keith bolted upright, waist knocking against his plate loudly. 

“Keith?” Lance was confused and, frankly, a bit worried.

“Um, we gotta go.” He was already stuffing his phone into his pocket and digging out his wallet. 

“Is everything okay?”

“We need to leave; I'm compromised. I'll explain outside.” He dropped enough money on the table to cover their bill and tip, then grabbed a thoroughly bewildered Lance’s hand and pushed his way out the doors, the retreating sound of hearty brotherly laughter goading at his back. 

Keith was trying to reconcile indignation at Shiro’s betrayal, with intense pride in the fact that his brother was dating someone who looked like that. Needing to distance himself from the possibility that Shiro would come outside to embarrass him, Keith made a beeline for his bike parked on the sidestreet. Lance’s voice brought him back to his surroundings. “Not that I'm not totally into you dragging me around by the hand, but what is going on?”

“Shiro,” said Keith cryptically, by way of explanation, and handed Lance the spare helmet. He'd set out with the intent of giving Lance a ride home, and if he’d still had his wits about him, he would’ve appreciated Lance’s reaction to his bike. 

Lance looked from the helmet now grasped in his hands, to Keith, to the bike’s small seat, with increasing degrees of panic. The reason for their sudden departure momentarily forgotten, Lance gulped. His crush of three years was a biker! How had he missed that? As hot as that was though, Lance felt he needed to share some pertinent information. “Um, Keith? Just so it’s out in the open, I’ve never ridden on a bike before.”

Keith, now also distracted from the abrupt end to their lunch, finally looked at Lance, who was nervously eyeing the bike, bottom lip caught between his teeth, as if unsure of his words. But Lance, being Lance, couldn’t stay silent for long.

“I mean, I’ve ridden a  _ bicycle _ , so I’m not completely… I’m just saying, you know, so that you’re  _ aware _ …”

So Lance rambled when he was nervous. Cute. Keith figured he should say something to put him at ease. “Shut up and trust me,” he managed, and immediately cringed. He tried again more softly, “I won’t go too fast. Just hold on tight, and you’ll be fine.”

“Hey, I’m not scared!” Lance shoved the helmet on, and gestured impatiently for Keith to get on.

Keith resigned himself to the knowledge that this boy was ridiculous. Smiling to himself, he mounted his bike and put on his helmet. He flipped a switch, and it roared to life beneath him. A moment later, Lance got on behind him, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of Keith’s waist. Keith smirked. It was good enough for now, but he knew Lance would have to hold on tighter once he took off. He decided to let Lance cross that bridge when he got to it. He rolled the throttle and let out the clutch. The bike started moving, not even that fast, and Lance yelped, snaking his hands around Keith’s stomach and drawing closer. He’d been expecting it, but the suddenly intensified feeling of Lance pressed up against him,  _ clinging _ to him, racked a shiver through his entire body, and he nearly lost control of the bike.  _ Pull yourself together _ , he chided himself with a scowl, gripping the handles so hard his knuckles turned white. He chanced a look in the rearview mirror, and saw Lance blushing and trying to contain a smile. Keith was struck with the sudden dual urge to just watch but also to deepen Lance’s blush further. Seeing Lance so affected was bringing some of his own confidence back; and as he drove, he found himself grudgingly thanking Shiro. His brother had unwittingly helped him avoid the awkwardness of asking Lance if he actually wanted to ride with him. Keith’s solution may have been a bit crude, but it got the job done. Speaking of which, Keith still owed Lance an explanation. So, when they stopped at the next light, he filled Lance in on what had gone down back at the diner. Watching Lance’s reaction in the mirror, Keith saw his face go from ‘interested’ to ‘amused’ to ‘absolutely gleeful’ as he took in the details. 

“Oh my god, your brother really is a memelord!” Lance shouted over the roar of the wind when they started moving again, and buried his face in Keith’s shoulder, his whole body shaking with laughter. Once he sobered up a bit, Lance lifted his head from Keith’s leather-clad shoulder, but then rested his chin there instead. Despite the wind rushing around them, Keith felt warm beneath him, and Lance wasn’t too willing to give up that contact just yet. Lance always made the best of every situation, and as long as he had an excuse to keep Keith wrapped in his arms, he would take every advantage.

Much too soon for either of them, they arrived at Keith’s dorm, and Lance was proud to say he was steady on his legs getting off. They were all shy smiles and awkward shuffles on the way up to Keith’s room. Lance willed his heart to be calm with the notion of going  _ inside Keith’s room _ (!), while Keith racked his brain trying to remember if he’d actually tossed his laundry into the hamper that morning. He just hoped Lance wasn’t about to step on a pair of his boxers as he opened the door and let Lance in. 

Lance was not sure what he’d been expecting  _ Keith’s room _ to be like, but what he’d just walked into was undeniably Keith. The bed was unmade, Lance’s jacket hung from the bedpost (a sight that settled warmly in Lance’s chest), the desk facing it sported the average college student amount of clutter. There was another sparse desk and bed across from Keith’s; Lance made the connection to Keith once having mentioned a roommate who was never around. But what really drew Lance’s eye was an old-school cork bulletin board mounted above the desk. He walked over to it while Keith closed the door and set down his keys. The bulletin board was full of papers tacked on haphazardly, overlaid with bright yellow post-its. Lance tried to make sense of it, but the handwriting was nearly illegible. It looked extremely cool, but maybe Lance was biased in everything Keith-related. He turned back around to find Keith watching him. He raised his eyebrows in question and pointed over his shoulder at the board behind him.

“It’s for my P-chem final paper. I did some original research, and writing out my variables and results like that helps me visualize what I need to put in my discussion. Behind that is just, older stuff.”

“Chem major, huh? Figures.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that you always seemed like the smart bookish type.”

“You’re smart too, even though you don't seem to show it.”

“Hey!”

Of course Keith’s compliments came out wrong. He backtracked. “I just mean that you have this whole ‘yolo’ attitude going on, but you're secretly really smart. And that's really cool.”

“Oh,” Lance said eloquently, as the tips of his ears went pink. “Um, thanks.” 

Keith realized they’d been standing up the whole time, gazing at each other from across the room. He cleared his throat self-consciously, and offered Lance his desk chair, before asking, “You study…”

“Aeronautics,” Lance answered. 

“See? Smart.”

Lance decided to deflect before his self-consciousness got the better of him. “So are you gonna show me any of your magic tea, or are you just all talk?” he redirected.

“Just wait and watch.” Keith walked into the corner of the room that served as a tiny kitchen, with a two-range stove, a mini fridge, a microwave, and minimal counter space. Keith pulled a small all-purpose pot out of the cupboard, and started filling it with water. He glanced out toward where Lance was sitting, leafing casually through Keith’s books, and considered what kind of tea he should make. As someone who barely even liked coffee, Lance ought to be a sencha man. But Keith also recalled Lance disliking tea for not having enough flavor. He would probably like something a bit heavier. Keith had to work with what he had here. He picked up up the box of authentic Indian chai and dropped a bag into the pot with some milk. He put it on the stove, and stepped back to wait with his arms crossed.

The tea was still brewing when Lance got impatient and wandered into the kitchen. “Something smells good.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“That’s the sweet aroma of your defeat,” Keith threw back without missing a beat.

Lance’s smile faltered a bit, before he caught the twinkle in Keith’s eyes. He raised his eyebrows and smiled despite himself. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.”

The kitchen was far from big enough for two, but that didn’t seem to bother Lance. He leaned against the counter next to Keith for a moment before pushing off and turning around to open cabinets. He examined the package of chai closely before moving on. When he opened the second cabinet, an unassuming cereal box stared him in the face. “ _ Corn Squares? _ ” Lance sputtered.

Keith looked at Lance’s flummoxed expression, and his own brows knit in confusion. “What? I just buy whatever's cheap. Got sick of sugar from the lucky charms so I bought corn flakes.”

“Okay, but Corn  _ Squares _ ?” He practically yelled that last word.

“Yeah?” Keith’s own voice was rising in response.

“They’re not even… square! They’re just flakes!”

Lance was struck by the pure sound of Keith’s laughter for the second time that day, the dry sound he’d been smitten by that night at 3 AM in front of his dorm building. He grinned at the snort that slipped out of Keith. Was cereal talk really the key to mullet man’s heart?

“Okay, what’s your favorite cereal?”

The question unexpectedly sobered Keith, though a cheery air lingered around him. “I don’t know if I have a favorite,” he said, “but I always come back to Special K.” 

Lance turned to face Keith with his hip still resting against the counter. He crossed his arms and scooted closer, waiting for an explanation. Keith chuckled, and continued,

“It’s embarrassing, but when I was little, my parents would try to get me to eat their health cereals, but I hated them. Then Shiro convinced me that the ‘K’ in special K stood for Keith, and that it was a special cereal just for me.”

“Oh my god I need to meet Shiro!” Lance snickered. “I can’t believe I missed my chance at the diner.” He couldn’t have reigned in the fond look he was giving Keith even if he’d wanted to. His feelings were way out of his control at this point.

“No. I do  _ not _ need you two ganging up on me.”

“Aww, come on, it’ll be fun! Twice the love,” he suggested without thinking. He was saved from the implications of his word vomit when Keith pushed away from the counter towards the stove saying,

“Tea’s almost ready.” Keith didn’t want to admit to himself how the words Lance said so casually sent shocks through his heart. He pulled the pot off the stove, and swirled the tea. He only had one mug, so he poured half out into it and the other half into a glass. He added a spoonful of sugar to each and pushed the mug toward Lance.

“Smells goood,” Lance hummed, before bringing the mug up to his lips and taking a cautious sip. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment but otherwise, his face was uncharacteristically blank as he processed the taste.

Just when Keith was about to prompt him, Lance spoke up. “Are you sure this is tea?”

“What? Of course it is.”

Lance sipped some more, no longer bothering to hide his pleasure. “It just doesn’t taste like any tea I’ve ever had before. It’s more…” he trailed off, considering, taking another sip. “Full-bodied,” he concluded. Keith bestowed a good-natured but smug smile on him. The look awakened Lance’s competitive spirit, and he added, “I still prefer my caramel frappes, mind you.”

They made their way out of the kitchen, and Lance settled into Keith’s chair again, Keith taking the ever-absent roommate’s chair. Lance kept up his commentary as they drank,

“It has this natural sweetness I wouldn’t have expected. Like it’s totally apart from the sugar.”

“Given your penchant for vanilla-syrup-diluted coffee, I figured you might like this blend.”

“Yeah man, I’m getting mocha vibes from this. Where’d you get it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that brand in store.”

“My brother got it for me when he went to India last month.”

In response, Lance asked more about Shiro. Keith told him about how he always made time for travel despite his work at the academy. Lance in turn told Keith about his own family, about missing them–missing Varadero Beach, and his mom’s hugs, and her cooking–while he was away at school. The topic moved quickly to their hometowns, and Keith was struck by how  _ easy _ conversation was with Lance. He didn’t feel awkward having this almost-stranger in his room. He wondered if it was the complete lack of awkwardness on Lance’s part–his openness–that made Keith’s anxieties dissolve. Whatever it was, Keith found himself craving more. Lance was still here with him, in his room, talking to him, but Keith was already thinking about how much he’d want to see Lance, to be around him, after he left today. Keith took a big gulp of the tea to calm his overzealously beating heart.

Keith’s worry turned out to have been a bit premature. The empty mug and glass long-abandoned on the desks, the boys talked some more, swapping horrible-professor stories and telling each other about their favorite TV shows.

Keith, it turned out, almost exclusively watched detective shows and social issue documentaries. Lance found himself inexplicably smitten by this tidbit. But the trashlord within him made Keith promise to watch  _ Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt _ with him someday, basically securing a second date when Keith agreed. Keith may have only said yes on the premise of proving to Lance he wouldn’t like the show, but he’d agreed to hang out just the same, so Lance decided to count it as a win. And on the second date, Lance would casually mention studying together–not  _ together _ together, because they were in different classes, but just motivate and keep each other company. And before Keith knew it, they’d be officially dating. Lance thought it was rather brilliant, if he did say so himself, (and he totally did). Not bad, especially considering he’d been talking about something unrelated the whole time he was coming up with this plan.

“Hey, we should do that bar date next time that you suggested earlier,” Keith said when there was a natural lull in the conversation, and just like that, undermined Lance’s whole game plan. But he couldn’t find it in himself to mind when it meant Keith was just as eager as he was to continue this–whatever  _ this _ was that they had going.

“Hell yeah, we should!” And Lance’s smile was so big, and so unaffected, it warmed Keith’s heart. All he could do was smile at his hands and avoid admitting that he didn’t normally frequent bars but wouldn’t mind going anywhere at all with Lance. The thought had him about to flush all over again–just when he’d gotten his heart to calm down a notch–when Lance sighed and leaned back in his chair, before hauling himself up to his feet.

Keith watched him with fond interest as he walked around the small room, taking in the little tidbits of Keith’s personality scattered about, like the original  _ Star Wars IV: A New Hope _ poster on the wall above his bed, and the British History notes stuffed under his pillow. Then, he ran a finger over his own jacket on the bedpost, and turned to wink at Keith.

Keith rolled his eyes for appearances’ sake, but had to look away to hide his blush.

“Keith.”

He looked up to meet earnest blue eyes. 

“Thank you for the tea. And thank you for the bike ride. And for lunch.” He was rambling again. Best to quit while he was ahead. “Bar date is next, I’ll hold you to it.”

“You got it,” Keith grinned, getting up to see Lance off. Lance was approaching the door when Keith called out to him, olive jacked in hand.

“Hey, it’s fine.” It was out before Keith could even say anything, and Keith’s eyebrows rose in question. 

“What, you don’t want it back at all?”

“No, it’s just… I don’t mind y– It’s nice to…” Lance was getting redder with each attempt to explain that, “it looks good in your room. It looks…”  _ domestic _ , he wanted to say, but couldn’t because Keith’s mouth was on his.

_ Keith was kissing him. _

It was just a soft press of lips against the corner of his mouth, but it was blowing his mind. Like a major short circuit. And just like that, before he could fully process every little detail, it was over. Keith was pulling away to look at a wide-eyed Lance with concern.

“I’ve been reading this wrong, haven’t I?” Keith’s mind had finally caught up with him. Of course Lance was straight as a pole, and Keith had gone and made an unwanted move on him. He should’ve known something like this would happen, he should’ve been prepa–

“Do you,” Lance cleared his throat when his voice came out way too high. “Do you want to try that again?”

Keith blinked, and when he was certain that Lance had indeed said that, he trusted his voice again to say, “Are you sure?”

Lance responded with an ear-to-ear grin and dipped his head to eagerly return the iss. Keith moved against him like Lance was the only thing in the whole world. 

The kiss broke when they couldn’t hold in their smiles anymore. Lance took a step back, a blissed out look on his face. He tried to articulate, “That was…”

“Really nice,” Keith finished, wanting to memorize every expression dancing across Lance’s features. 

“I should go while I still can,” Lance managed.

All Keith could manage was “Bye” with a breathless smile.

After Lance had gone, Keith put on the jacket he was still holding for no reason at all, and tried to ignore the fact that he was still smiling to himself by washing the dishes. When he finished, he came back to his bed to find his phone going off with incoming texts, 

_ ➤Lunch, tea, and a kiss?! _

_ ➤+1 for Lance McClain ;) _

➤ **wait ur last name is actually mcclain?**

➤ _ Ofc aldfkja;ld what did u think mcslain meant?? _

**➤i thought it meant like, u slayed me with ur charms**

_ ➤Aww, babe! u think I slayed u? :)) _

➤ _ It's a pun. That makes u like me more, doesn't it? _

➤ **it makes me question my life choices.**

➤ _ Rude.  _

This was followed by a screenshot of the chat window. Keith’s contact name was still a K with an angry red face, but it was now joined by a heart with an arrow through it, a heart with sparkles, and yet more hearts of varying sizes. Keith giggled. 

➤ **ur so embarrassing omg**

Three dots indicating Lance was typing came up, and stayed up. This again? Keith looked at what he had typed, and it occurred to him that the text format might've made his words sound not-as-fond as they were. So he sent a  **< 3** to be safe. Apparently that was all the reassurance Lance needed, sending a  _ <333 _ in return. Keith pocketed his phone and faceplanted into his bed. Maybe a power nap would help him convince himself that this was actually happening. 

* * *

**Outtakes: (What was going down in the time it took Lance to say yes to tea in Ch. 2)**

-Lancelot sent a photo-

Lancelot:  
_Omg guys is Keith asking me out???_

Gourmunk:  
_**whaaaat!! NICE**_

Lifehack:   
**bruh. u owe me 20$.**  
**20$ is now owed. pay up loverboy**

Lancelot:  
_aaahhhh_

Gourmunk:  
_**how did you reply?**_

Lancelot:  
_I didn't yet ????_

Gourmunk:  
_**Lance. omg what're you waiting for dude?**_

Lifehack:  
**jfc y r u lik dis ?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished! I hope you all enjoyed the ride!
> 
> Special thanks to rainingWolf for the idea of Shiro turning up to Keith's date in disguise, to tumblr user ididntwritethatline for the Special K idea, and to tumblr user frozenlance for the stroke of genius that was Corn Squares.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [sleapywolfwrites](https://sleapywolfwrites.tumblr.com/)  
> voltron sideblog: [sir-klancelot](https://sir-klancelot.tumblr.com/)


End file.
